


The Perils of Gym Class

by Singing_Siren



Series: Peter and The Avengers, as Seen by Midtown High [8]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Peter Parker, Everyone Has Issues, Flash Thompson Being A Jerk, Flash Thompson Bullies Peter Parker, Gen, Identity Reveal, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Protective Peter Parker, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:35:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25210048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Singing_Siren/pseuds/Singing_Siren
Summary: Normally, Peter would be against revenge. This was not a normal situation. He could take the bullying, both physical and emotional, but they hadn’t focused their attention on Ned in a long time. Peter let them hurt him, as long as they didn’t touch Ned. In this situation, where they had broken the unspoken rules, his first instinct was to even the score, morals be damned.“Peter,” Ned’s voice strained, “no. Remember what Mr. Stark said? Revenge will only hurt you in the long run.”Or: Peter gets tired of Flash and shows off what he can do in gym class after a hard weekend. (Featuring Peter's abandonment issues and Tony Stark's daddy issues)
Relationships: Michelle Jones & Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Avengers Team, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: Peter and The Avengers, as Seen by Midtown High [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1417525
Comments: 25
Kudos: 856
Collections: Identity Reveal x Field Trip, Spider-Man Public Identity Reveal, best of the acadec team





	The Perils of Gym Class

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bibibisques](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bibibisques/gifts).



> Hello! I hope you all enjoy this! I had a lot of fun writing it. Forgive me for any mistakes because I mainly wrote this at like 3 am after not writing for a couple of months. I dedicate this fic to Bibibisques!

Peter blinked against the bright sunlight as he and Ned walked out of the school. He hefted his backpack over his shoulder and grinned. The sight of Happy’s car, well hidden unless you know where to look, was a great relief to Peter after the week he had had.

“Are you sure you aren’t free this weekend?” Ned asked, his voice bordering on a whine. He’d been pouting since Peter had cancelled their plans earlier that day.

“Yeah, sorry dude, but you know how Mr. Stark is. He has his own schedule, one that doesn’t care about anyone else’s. Next weekend, okay?”

“Fine,” Ned muttered, though he smiled as his mother’s car pulled up. “See you on Monday!”

“See ya,” Peter called behind him as they went their own ways. He tightened his grip on his backpack straps and swung himself into the back of Happy’s car.

He had the whole weekend ahead of him, two days of fun Stark Tower. He couldn’t help the grin that overtook his face.

The weekend did not turn out the way he had hoped.

Friday night passed too slowly for Peter’s taste. 

Mr. Stark had been busy with Avengers business for a majority of the night, leaving Peter to tinker in his lab alone. He was tired of this-- ‘this’ being Tony Stark’s inability to manage his time in a way that benefited himself or others. Don’t get him wrong, Peter loved Mr. Stark-- in a mentor-mentee way, of course, don’t listen to what Ned and May said about Mr. Stark’s fatherly inclinations towards him-- but sometimes the man was too much.

This was the third time Mr. Stark had invited him over just to ditch him for “more important” business. Bruce had offered his services with a weak smile, but Peter had kindly declined and retreated into his own lab space.

Saturday passed the same way, except Peter spent most of the time that went into waiting for Mr. Stark on patrol. With a whoop, he jumped from the window in his room at the Tower. He swung through the streets of Queens until he couldn’t anymore, until his suit was soaked with sweat and he was breathing hard. He swung until Karen warned him of his pending exhaustion.

Sunday morning, Peter woke up in his room to the smell of bacon. He groaned and tried to sit up, but his muscles were aching. Maybe he shouldn’t have pushed himself so hard the night before.

“Pete?” Steve’s voice called from outside his door, “Are you ready for breakfast? Friday said you woke up, so I figured I would fetch you. Bucky and I cooked.”

“Yeah, I’ll be out in a minute,” he grunted. With a sigh he got ready to leave the comfort of his room and go eat with the team.

Steve’s cooking skills ended with bacon, so Peter was grateful for Bucky to pick up the slack with the meal. Settled in his normal seat at the counter, he watched the others slowly file into the room, eyes drooping with sleep as they followed the smell of freshly made food.

Natasha brushed her hand against his shoulder as she sat next to him, eyeing him suspiciously. He kept his eyes on his plate and shoveled food into his mouth.

“You didn’t sleep very well,” she said simply. Natasha never asked when she could state instead.

“Patrol ran long last night. Lots of cats stuck in trees and old ladies to help across the street.”

She kept her face blank, which Peter knew meant she knew that wasn’t the whole truth. 

He sighed again. “Where’s Mr. Stark? He said he’d be done by this morning.”

Her face softened, eyes roaming over his face. “Tony got called away for a mission. Bruce and Sam went with him. Don’t worry, it’s just a simple information op, but he didn’t get the chance to tell you before Fury took him.”

Peter called upon every ounce of self-control he had to keep himself from reacting. He gave Natasha a smile and a nod then went back to eating.

His mood dropped from there. In the gym, he trained until he couldn’t anymore. In his lab, one of the only places free of judgement, he couldn’t make anything without doubting himself. On patrol, he stayed up until he was struggling to stand.

By the time he went to sleep, he was exhausted. It took everything in him not to break down, not to sob into his pillow in the darkness of his room.

It wasn’t like he thought Mr. Stark would forget about him. He knew Mr. Stark cared about him, but it was hard to remember in the early hours of the morning. Especially hard to remember when he wasn’t there to remind him.

Morning came with a dull, throbbing headache. As he got ready for school, he said goodbye to the Tower and its occupants, for he wouldn’t see them until Wednesday.

Ned met him at the steps of the school with a bright smile that Peter struggled to match.

“Hey, man,” he said, “how was your weekend?”

He let Ned’s familiar rambling wash over him as they moved towards their first class. Luckily, Flash was not in that class with them. He had a brief reprieve from the bully.

First period passed quickly, the second following it just as fast. His thoughts were elsewhere. Third period passed with only a few spitballs aimed at the back of his neck from Flash and his goons. Fourth, the same.

Fifth period was when it all went to shambles. P.E. Physical Education. Also known as torture for the teenage superhero with a secret identity.

Peter groaned along with the rest of his class when they walked into the gym to see all the exercise equipment set up. Ropes, salmon ladders, pull up bars, weights, yoga mats, and more, with enough space for a running track around the room. Even Flash looked a little down at the sight.

Ned nudged him with his elbow, “I have a bad feeling about this.”

“Me too.”

At Coach Wilson’s whistle, the group split up for each activity. Ned and Peter headed towards the track, thinking that running was a safer activity than the others.

They got lost in conversation as they jogged, minds fixed on keeping pace with each other. Peter faked a stumble now and then to keep up the charade. Peter’s Spidey-Senses tingled, but after a quick look around he chalked it up to normal anxieties.

_ Crack _ .

Ned went down in a heap.

Peter’s instincts kicked in, eyes scanning the gym for the threat.

There. Flash and his friends. Each of them held a baseball in one hand and a racket in the other. Flash only had a racket. Peter’s eyes narrowed as he crouched over Ned’s prone, groaning form.

“What the hell?” he asked, blinking up at Peter. “Did something hit me?”

Peter eyed the baseball slowly rolling away from them.

“I think it was Flash and his buddies. They hit you with a baseball. Are you okay, man?”

“Yeah. I’m okay. My leg hurts a little though.” He sat up with Peter’s help and ran a hand over his leg, letting out a pained yelp. “That hurts. That hurts a lot.”

Peter stiffened. His pulse thundered in his ears as he locked his focus onto Flash. “Do you want me to get them back?”

Normally, Peter would be against revenge. This was not a normal situation. He could take the bullying, both physical and emotional, but they hadn’t focused their attention on Ned in a long time. Peter let them hurt him, as long as they didn’t touch Ned. In this situation, where they had broken the unspoken rules, his first instinct was to even the score, morals be damned.

“Peter,” Ned’s voice strained, “no. Remember what Mr. Stark said? Revenge will only hurt you in the long run.”

“I don’t care about the long run.” He turned back to Ned, helping him over to the bleachers. “They hurt you.”

“Pete, you can’t. I’m  _ fine _ .”

By now they were gathering a slight crowd, students interested in anything that got them out of exercising. Coach Wilson picked his way through the group.

“Leeds,” he called, voice gruff, “you need the nurse?”

He winced again, hand hovering over his leg. “Yes, please.”

Peter went to help him up and out of the gym when MJ, previously reading near the door, stepped in. She gave Peter a serious look and took Ned by the shoulders.

“You don’t have to hurt them to make them afraid of you,” she muttered under her breath. Peter’s eyes widened, though he shouldn’t be surprised. MJ knew everything.

As the two stumbled their way to the nurse, Peter set his sights on Flash. What had MJ meant? If he were dealing with a criminal, he’d threaten them with his webs and strength, but these were just high school bullies. He could still do that, he thought to himself, eyeing the equipment set up around him.

He quickly formulated a plan as the class moved back to their activities.

Flash and his goons were at the ropes.

Peter grinned, determined.

A few strides later, he sidled up to the line for ropes, cutting in front of Abe with a quiet apology. Abe gave him a raised eyebrow but otherwise didn’t question him. Peter stepped up to the mat at the same time as Flash, ignoring his snickers and taunts. As they got ready to race, Peter turned to him and smiled, a wide smile that showed all his teeth, bordering on threatening.

“Go,” Coach said from his spot off to the side, signaling the start of the race.

Within two seconds, Peter was up the rope. He rang the bell and dropped down to the mat, eyes on Flash as he struggled to pull himself halfway. He tilted his head to the side.

“I think you can do better than that, Eugene.”

Flash glared from above and dropped down. He took a step towards Peter. Coach Wilson cleared his throat, a warning to the advancing boy. Peter bared his teeth in a poor imitation of a smile.

He stepped back towards the salmon ladder. “You wanna prove yourself, or what?”

With fire in his eyes, Flash marched towards the ladders and stepped in front of the line, glaring the protesting students into submission.

Peter chuckled lowly.

“Three,” he counted, “Two, one, go.”

He stood still, letting Flash gain the lead. As his bar hooked on the second latch, Peter grabbed his bar. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Flash hooked his third latch. Six, seven. Peter, arms flexing as he held his position one latch from the top, looked down into Flash’s eyes. He jerked his body once more to hook the last latch.

The rest of the gym had gone quiet, Peter realized as he dropped down to the mat.

It looked to Peter as if Coach Wilson was holding in a smirk. The man gestured with a nod to the weights. 

“First to finish benching ten reps of the 150 pound barbells wins,” he called from outside the gathering crowd.

Flash stood tall for the audience. Despite his losses, he seemed to think he could beat Puny Parker in a weight lifting contest. Peter couldn’t wait to prove him wrong. It was about more than Ned then, more than a matter of pride, more than the consequences of a broken promise.

As Peter got into place beneath the bar, he realized this was about him and the bully. Peter and Flash. He let Flash push him around too much over the years, listing excuse after excuse on why he should just take the pain.

Maybe that’s why Mr. Stark had seemingly forgotten his existence.

But Peter was done just taking the pain. He would fight for the credit he deserved; he would fight for himself.

“Go.”

One, two, three…

Flash did one.

Four, five, six…

Two.

Seven, eight, nine…

Three.

Peter pumped out his tenth rep, returning the barbell to its place for his spotter to steady it. He sat up, barely breaking a sweat, to watch with a single-minded focus as Flash slowly but surely got through his set.

“What’s next, Coach?” Peter asked in an innocent voice, smiling again.

Flash’s face was red with anger and exertion. Peter took great satisfaction from the sweat at his brow that was starting to soak through his shirt. “What the hell are you pulling, Parker? You can barely run without tripping on a good day. Are you on steroids or some shit?”

“Mr. Thompson,” Coach Wilson said, not bothering to hide his smirk now, “hold your accusations. Pull ups are next. Again, first to ten wins the race.”

Peter strided over calmly. Flash stomped. Half the crowd looked amused, the other half surprised. Abe was grinning, his appreciation for Peter growing.

The pull ups went the same way, Peter using his strength to be done in record time, Flash failing greatly. Peter took some pride in the glare Flash shot him, but he wasn’t done. They stepped away from the equipment, Peter taunting Flash with a smirk and cocking his head to the side.

“How do you feel, Eugene? Still want to go after me? Poor Penis Parker, the sad, little orphan. The perfect victim. I beat you, Flash, and everybody saw it. I guarantee that it will be all over social media within the hour. So are you gonna do something about it or-”

Flash lunged for Peter, giving in to his anger.

Peter grinned.

He dodged, letting Flash brush past him and stumble. After all, he had said he wouldn’t hurt the boy, so he wouldn’t physically hurt him.

Flash gathered himself and tried again. This time, he went for a punch, which Peter easily backed away from. His Spidey-Sense tingled. The hairs on the back of his neck raised and he flipped backwards, over the kid who tried to get the drop on him, loyal to Flash to a fault.

“Is that all you’ve got?” he prods, dropping into a crouch with a smirk.

Another goon stepped out of the crowd to join the fight. The three of them came at Peter simultaneously, and he almost laughed. He somersaulted over their heads, going into a roll as the three of them regained their composure.

“You went after the wrong person, Flash.” He dodged their sloppy punches. “You should have hit  _ me _ with that baseball. Maybe then you would be the one at the nurse instead of Ned.”

He laughed coldly as Flash swung wildly, his fist hitting the empty air where Peter had just been.

“Almost pathetic, Eugene.”

Flash let out a cry of rage as he and his buddies rushed towards Peter. They grabbed him by the shoulders. 

Flash hit him in the gut, but Peter only laughed, “I’m done being your punching bag, Flash. I’m done pretending I’m weaker than you to save your pride.”

He flicked his wrist, his web shooters forming from his watch, and aimed toward the ceiling as the three held him in place and hit him.

“I’ll see you on the other side, Flash.”

He pressed the trigger. A web shot out from his wrist and attached to the gym ceiling. He tugged. It was steady. With one last smirk, he jumped, letting the web fly him up to the rafters. He looked down at the gawking class and laughed.

“If I ever see you harassing anybody in this school, I will destroy you, Flash.” He tapped his watch, letting the Spider-Man suit form around him. With his mask finally on, he called down for the last time. “And stay away from my family.”

He crawled out of sight, letting the shadows wash over him as he tucked himself into the corner of the roof.

“Karen,” he whispered, “can you make sure Ned’s alright?”

A pause.

“According to the school’s cameras and MJ’s texts, Ned will be fine. He has a small fracture, but his mother will pick him up soon and take him to the doctor.”

He sighed, the weight off his shoulders for the first time since Ned got hit.

Peter made a quick barrier of webs around him to shield himself from the outside world. He was tired, he realized slowly. It wasn’t just today, but the whole weekend that had drained him.

“Is Mr. Stark back from his op?”

“Yes, he is. Would you like for me to get him to your location?”

He thought about it for a moment. On one hand, he didn’t want to bother the busy man. On the other, he just revealed his identity to the world without a second thought.

“Do you think he’ll be mad at me, Karen?”

“No, Peter. I do not think he will be.”

“Get him here, please.”

“Done.”

Later, with the sound of Iron Man’s thrusters in the background, Peter opens his web. The suit is standing before him, face plate down. He steps back onto the rafters and lowers his head against Mr. Stark’s gaze.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Stark.”

“Don’t be, kid, and call me Tony. It was gonna happen sooner or later. I’d rather you reveal yourself to the world over Ned getting hurt than something stupid like an outfit mishap. Hey, you okay, Underoos?”

He cleared his throat and met his eyes. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

Mr. Stark-- no, Tony-- smiled awkwardly. “Listen, kid, Natasha and I had a talk earlier, and I realized a few things.”

Oh no. He doesn’t want to give away his suit for something as stupid as missing curfew.

“I’ve been careless lately,” Tony continued. He straightened his shoulders. “I haven’t been there for you when I said I was going to be, and for that I’m sorry. That’s my bad. I got overwhelmed with work and prior commitments, but that’s no excuse. I thought that I could get it all done in time and still spend time with you. It didn’t work out. Natasha smacked some sense into me. From now on, I will manage everything better. For you. I won’t let you down again, kid.”

Peter was frozen in shock, mouth gaping and eyes wide.

“Mr. St-- Tony, that’s okay. I can take care of myself, you know? I don’t need you to be there to hold my hand. I know you have responsibilities, and I’m selfish for wishing you don’t, but that’s not your fault!”

Tony smiled, a real smile where his eyes softened with happiness. “That’s not selfish, Peter. I used to wish the same thing with my father, and I know how bad it felt when he wasn’t there for me. I’m going to be better for you. I will  _ not _ be my father.”

Peter choked back the lump in his throat, tears building up in his eyes. “You’re not my dad, Tony. That’s not your responsibility.”

“Yes, it is.” He stepped forward and placed his gloved hand on Peter’s shoulder. They stayed there for a moment until Peter could breathe easy again.

“Now, how about we talk about that stunt you pulled earlier. Peter Parker is trending on Twitter.” Tony laughed at Peter’s wide eyes. “Don’t worry. We’ll figure it out. Together.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Did y'all enjoy? If you caught any mistakes don't be afraid to tell me so I can fix them! If you want to contact me, I'm at Tumblr at both teardropsonrooftops and qquoththeravenn.


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